


shine a light through

by cyclogenesis (addictedkitten)



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Curtain Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 02:15:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/cyclogenesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just that Harry moaned one time about the early light through the windows, and it doesn’t make much difference to Nick anyway, he’ll be up before dawn soon enough on a daily basis. (literal curtain!fic, I'm not even kidding.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	shine a light through

It’s just that Harry moaned one time about the early light through the windows, and it doesn’t make much difference to Nick anyway, he’ll be up before dawn soon enough on a daily basis. It’s not like they’ll interfere with the look of his bedroom or anything, he doesn’t have some grandly decorated thing going on. Plus he’s only getting a set for the biggest window, the one facing east. Harry sleeps on that side anyway. Nick isn’t even bothered by the sun, any man worth his evening schedule’s well deep into REM by sunrise. 

“Did you want these, then?” the shop assistant says finally, having apparently reached her limit of pretending to care about giving Nick a proper amount of time to consider the social ramifications of purchasing drapes. 

“Yes fine,” Nick says, rushing out the words like she might not hear them. 

She blinks, unimpressed, and rings the curtains up.

-

Hanging the curtains is emotionally exhausting enough that Nick needs a cup of tea to recover. He has to push aside three boxes of the tea Harry likes before he gets to his favorite oolong in the back of the cupboard. He nearly changes his mind and has a cup of the darjeeling Harry prefers, because it is awfully good, but Nick is his own man, with his own tea, in his own flat, and Nick will not be bullied by Harry’s excellent taste in tea.

Harry’s a bit late getting home from the studio. Nick has a cup of the darjeeling as well. 

Nick’s half paying attention to an episode of Buffy when Harry’s key rattles the lock, rattling Nick’s bones along with it. He isn’t used to this yet. He determinedly appreciates Buffy’s one-liners until Harry clatters up behind him, greeting him with a hand slipped down the collar of his shirt and an apparently unironic, “Honey, I’m home.” Nick tilts his face up and there’s Harry, smiling before meeting him in a kiss. It goes on longer than Nick expects, then longer than that until Harry straight climbs over the back of the couch and they end up lazily making out for awhile. It’s quite magnificent, really, let it not be said that Nick’s complaining. 

Eventually Harry just settles atop him with a sigh, like a great big heavy dog that’s convinced it’s still a little puppy. Nick strokes his hand over Harry’s back, puts his other hand up to meet Harry’s where it’s curled over his heart. Harry links their fingers together, and Nick sort of wants to laugh, kind of wants to cry, because how can Harry make him feel like this? And that’s what gets Nick, it isn’t the _like this_ it’s the _feel_ , like he’s spent his whole life operating at a seven and the power’s just been kicked up to the tenth notch when he never even know it could go that high. Everything is _more_ these days, most of all when he’s with Harry. And every other time too, because he knows Harry’s there, by his side or sending his phone buzzing in his pocket or on the way home to him. 

“Up, you’re heavy,” Nick says, a touch gruffly, because otherwise he’ll say something else. 

Harry heaves a great big teenage sigh, but gets off of him. “I work hard all day to keep you in good tea and pretty clothes and I can’t even get a cuddle for my troubles,” Harry says mournfully. 

“You keep me in pretty clothes?” Nick scoffs. He rolls off the couch, following Harry into the bedroom, pointedly ignoring the little swish Harry’s added to his hips. Nick’s not about to fall for Harry’s Jessica Rabbit bullshit, not even when Harry gives him a knowing grin over his shoulder, curls falling over one eye. Goddamn kids these days. “That’s literally my shirt you’re wearing. I’m the one keeping you in pretty clothes. Don’t try to steal that one either, I’m keeping a running tally you filthy thief.” He’s going on a bit, not about anything really, in a last-ditch effort to keep Harry from noticing the room’s new addition. Judging by the way Harry stops abruptly enough for Nick to bump into him, it was a fool’s hope. 

Harry stares at the curtains for a good ten seconds at least. A terrible ten seconds, actually. Nick spends each one feeling more and more pitiful, until Harry’s face breaks into a slow grin. “You bought curtains,” he says, turning to stare at Nick, an accusatory finger pointed his way. “Because I said the sun was in my eyes that one time.”

“I didn’t,” denies Nick. “Found them on the street, that was all. I liked the color. Nothing to do with you.”

“You’re a good _boyfriend_ ,” Harry says, his grin growing wider. “You’re thoughtful. You’re considering my happiness.” He raises an eyebrow, slips his hands around Nick’s waist. 

Nick bats feebly at them. “Nothing of the sort. Who’re you again? I can’t have strange popstars breaking into my flat, I’m phoning the police.”

Harry’s looking at Nick like he hung the moon in the sky instead of just a set of curtains over the window. His wide grin has softened into something awfully, terribly, beautifully tender, and Nick wants to spend the rest of his life buying curtains for Harry. “Thank you,” Harry says. He moves in for a kiss and Nick meets him halfway, grateful for the chance to close his eyes, a momentary respite from the look on Harry’s face. Doesn’t help much, Harry just puts it all into the kiss instead. He touches Nick’s face, cups his hands around the back of Nick’s neck, leans up into it. Harry never acts like he has anything to hide from Nick. Someday Nick wants to be that brave.

“You’re welcome,” Nick says when they pull back, and thumbs Harry’s cheek, keeps him close. Hopes someday that he can learn.


End file.
